


Soul Kitchen

by larryisrealbro



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, it's cute though give it a try, one shot i guess, super short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 21:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10369959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryisrealbro/pseuds/larryisrealbro
Summary: The title is a The Doors reference, and so are a few parts of this story.Larry, 1300 words. SFW.





	

Niall pulled up in Louis’ driveway, casting an inquisitive look at the house. There seemed to be nobody around apart from a somewhat obese pigeon, which he challenged to a staring contest using the sheer power of his will. The bird froze for a second and then took off with unexpected Grace.

‘That’s right, motherfucker,’ murmured the blonde, resuming his mission. He bent down and began to rummage through the glove compartment in his car, which contained nearly every object known to humanity except for actual gloves.

‘There… you… are… pieceofshit. Come to daddy.’

Having emptied the compartment of half of its mysterious contents, Niall located a bunch of spare keys he’d been trusted with by a few trustful friends and family members. He got out of the car, a bit sweaty and out of breath but still majestic as fuck, and approached the front door.

He rang the doorbell, and then he rang some more. There was a sound vibrating in the hot afternoon air, like the bass line of a song playing somewhere close, but Niall wasn’t sure if it was coming from Louis’ house or a neighbour’s.

If it was playing inside, that would be a good sign. Or would it. What if a group of burglars and serial killers was hosting a rave party upstairs? Niall sighed and looked down at the keys dubiously. ‘Oh fuck it,’ he whispered, and unlocked the door.

_____ _____ _____

_ The cars crawl past all stuffed with eyes, _

_ street lights share their hollow glow… _

‘What the hell are we listening to right now?’

‘Are you kidding me? That’s The Doors.’

‘No, but WHY. Why are we listening to that?’

‘It’s on shuffle. So why won’t you take this opportunity to appreciate the timeless beauty of…’

‘I feel like we’ve been miraculously transported to a retirement home.’

‘Okay. Then go make me some tea, dear.’

_____ _____ _____

The kitchen was empty.

So was every other room downstairs. Niall made sure there was no one there before he walked on down the hall. He stood at the base of the stairs and looked up towards the source of the sound, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on the railings. Whoever had broken in and killed Louis Tomlinson had a pretty damn good taste in music. Niall felt a little more confident knowing that the foe he was about to confront was most likely a senile old man with a history of drug abuse.

Or it could be just Louis listening to music in his own bedroom. Duh. It’s not like Niall didn’t consider that option at all. But easy explanations seemed less and less probable as time passed without a word from his friend, who had literally vanished two days earlier. Well, not literally, more like figuratively. He had to be  _ somewhere _ .

Niall hadn’t heard from Harry either, but that boy had a thing for disappearing from all his social media every once in a while, being busy with life, clearing his head or whatever. Silent Harry wasn’t quite as alarming as silent Louis.

The thought reminded Niall of another reason why he was worried. Last time all three of them had been hanging out together there was so much tension in the air that even large amounts of cupcake vodka didn’t help to release it. Admittedly, it had been Niall who consumed most of the alcohol, but still. You could expect some improvement. Instead, there were embarrassingly poor attempts at casual conversation and forced smiles until Harry’s sudden departure. Then in the morning it was just a very hangover Niall and a very miserable Louis, trying to act like everything was normal, like a Sunday without Harry made any sense.

It’s been ages since that day, Niall thinks as he starts to climb the stairs.

The evening’s falling, and there are no windows in the small corridor leading to Louis' bedroom, so with each step Niall becomes shrouded in darkness. He’s nearly overwhelmed by a stupid urge to sing along when he distinguishes the lyrics to the song coming from the room in front of him.

_ Let me sleep all night in your soul kitchen! _

_ Warm my mind near your gentle stove. _

_ Turn me out and I'll… _

He takes a deep breath and opens the door.

The first thing he lays his eyes on is way, way too much bare skin. Jim Morrison’s vocals are instantly outshouted by none other than Harry Styles.

‘Niall!!!’

Louis joins in with a high-pitched shriek, which quickly becomes muffled when Harry wraps an arm around his head, instinctively shielding the boy as if his body still hasn’t let go of the idea that the person at the door might be a violent intruder. Niall would certainly appreciate the irony of the situation if his mind hadn’t gone perfectly blank, acting out of a self-preserving reflex.

Their eyes meet. And then Harry starts to laugh.

_____ _____ _____

It is almost dark outside now. Half of the sky has turned a deep shade of purple, which almost makes Niall smile. The moon is lying still in one corner of the window, but with all the artificial light radiating from this heavily humaned patch of the earth you can’t tell if the sky is scattered with stars yet. You just take for granted that it is. That’s a strange thought, but also kind of appropriate on a night when Niall Horan begins to see things which were previously unseen. Other than Louis' dick, obviously.

‘Well,’ he turns to his friends so as to frown at them properly. ‘I’ve been calling and texting you two dickheads for the past two days like crazy. You were here all the time?’

‘Yeah. We were catching up.’

‘Yep,’ Louis confirms, his mouth full of half-chewed banana.

Niall fights the urge to say ‘Oh really’ and just watches the couple slouched on two chairs pushed together against the wall. He’s slightly thrown off balance by how completely exhausted and unembarrassed they look right now, with their heavy-lidded eyes and messy hair.

‘Cause it seems more like you two frick fracked until cockcrow, and then slept like sexually active babies,’ he says, waiting for some sort of emotional response, and instead earning just one tired smile.

‘We didn’t sleep that much, actually,’ Harry murmurs.

‘Or eat.’

‘What, you hungry? Why didn’t you say?’

‘No, ‘m fine,’ Louis waves the remains of his banana in front of Harry’s face in a self-explanatory gesture.

Niall rolls his eyes and briefly considers the tempting possibility of just facepalming and leaving right at this moment. On the other hand, he’s all too aware that something huge is happening. He’s found himself at the very centre of a gossip tornado and that’s not a spot he’s going to willingly give up, even as the dramatic image painted by his brain clashes with the scene unfolding on the other end of the kitchen table. A hoodie-clad Louis Tomlinson half asleep on Harry’s shoulder, with a banana peel still in his hand, hardly seems like decent material for a scandal of any sort. Niall sighs for the umpteenth time. He’d better get that award for the most patient friend in the whole fucking world.

‘Louis, I was just worried. Everyone was. Liam called me from New York, he said you were supposed to talk to him about some photoshoot. People were trying to contact you. You weren’t answering any calls.’

‘I’m sorry, man. I didn’t realise it would be such a big deal if I took a weekend off.’

‘What did you expect? You didn’t tweet a damn word or even post a photo of your shoes. That’s not like you. Of course, if I’d known you decided to re-enact a 1960s erotic movie with a soundtrack by Jim Morrison I wouldn’t be here right now, believe you me.’

Louis chuckles and gets up to make some tea, resting his free hand on Harry’s arm for a moment, squeezing lightly.

‘Don’t act all traumatized, Niall, I swear we were just listening to music.’


End file.
